


i'm gonna be free and i'm gonna be fine

by fandomnerd



Series: Arrowverse Birds of Prey AU [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Batman (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:23:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5819419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomnerd/pseuds/fandomnerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Laurel-centric oneshots, showing how Laurel meets the batfam and how the Birds of Prey come to be in the Arrow-verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. March 2017

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I came up with this AU when I started watching Arrow (solely for Laurel Lance, who I am in love with forever and for all of time). I got really tired of her Constant Suffering, and decided the best way to fix that would be to have her meet Babs and start the Birds of Prey. I'm trying my best with this universe to adapt the Batfamily into what I think it would be in the DC TV universe, so while I'm drawing a lot from comics canon with the Batfam, there are going to be some differences (mostly because there is a Lot of comics canon, and a lot of retconning, and as the author I feel completely justified in picking my favorite parts and throwing out/changing/adapting the rest).
> 
> Title from "Delilah" by Florence + the Machine
> 
> Thanks to tumblr users youngjustus and secretlystephaniebrown for beta-ing!

“What are you doing in Gotham?” A large silhouette growled menacingly.

Laurel, by now incredibly used to gruff vigilante men trying to intimidate her, was unimpressed. “Taking down a corrupt CEO who’s been embezzling money from his company and deliberately sabotaging his own projects in order to hide the evidence, killing thousands of innocent people in the process. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Oracle’s comm crackled in her ear—Laurel wasn’t completely sure, since she really didn’t know them well enough to guess their reactions yet, but she was _pretty_ sure that Oracle was choking back a laugh. She smirked, pleased at the reaction.

The silhouette, who Laurel supposed was the Batman, wiped the smirk off her face with his next words. “You have no right to interfere in Gotham’s affairs. I am the protector of this city—you should go home.”

Laurel was really, _really_ sick of hypocritical male vigilantes trying to tell her what she could or could not do. She’d thought she’d left that behind on the West Coast—running into the East Coast knockoff Green Arrow had never been in her plans.

The main difference here was that she actually had backup who’d be on her side, and that Batman had no emotional leverage over her the way Ollie did.

She squared her shoulders, set her jaw in the stubborn way that anyone who knew her knew to fear, and put on her best lawyer voice.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t _actually_ own this city. You have no right to decide who is or is not allowed to fight crime. The Green Arrow can’t dictate what I do—I’m sure as hell not going to let some Arrow knockoff in a Bat costume do it either. And by the way, it’s not like what _either_ of us is doing is legal; we’re both vigilantes, if you hadn’t noticed, and you have exactly zero moral high ground over me.”

He opened his mouth, Laurel assumed to object, but she didn’t give him the opportunity.

“And even if you _did_ somehow have some sort of embargo on crime-fighting help from heroes from other cities, I happen to have an invitation—Oracle, who I assume you are familiar with, came to _me_ and asked _me_ for my help.” She narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to argue any of her points. He seemed to be at a loss for words, though, instead letting out a dramatic grunt.

“If you’re working with Oracle, I assume you’re not breaking the no-killing rule. As long as you don't break that rule, you may…continue to operate in Gotham.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Great, thanks. Didn’t need your permission, but I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

This time the noise in her ear was _definitely_ a snicker. She resisted the urge to grin—Oracle was proving to have a much better sense of humor than she’d first assumed.

Batman nodded sharply, letting out another short grunt before turning and vanishing into the night. She thought she heard him mutter something about not being an Arrow knockoff, and rolled her eyes again. Seriously, male vigilantes were so melodramatic.

“Well, that’s definitely _one_ way to deal with Batman,” the voice in her ear said. The words were tinged with a wry sarcasm that Laurel was beginning to hear in almost every word Oracle said. Laurel was only slightly surprised to find that she actually enjoyed it. Oracle’s commentary almost reminded her of Felicity, but darker, more cynical, in a way that appealed to her.

She was about to respond when she heard clapping coming from someone nearby. “Hold that thought,” she whispered to Oracle, and approached the front of the alley.

He was tall, just over 6 feet, and bulky, though not quite as over-muscled as Batman. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a crime-fighter, honestly—aside from the red helmet covering his entire head, he looked like your average teenage gangbanger, complete with at least two visible guns holstered. Except that he hadn’t attacked her (and from his body language, didn’t seem to be _intending_ to attack her), and the stylized red bat across his chest meant he was likely affiliated with Batman. She cocked an eyebrow.

“That was fantastic, really. Never seen someone stand up to old Bats like that and _win_. Truly inspiring.” His every word was laden with heavy sarcasm, brought out even more by his thick Crime Alley accent, but somehow she thought the underlying compliment was genuine.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had more than enough of his type in my life. And you? Who exactly are you?”

He yanked off his helmet, revealing curly black hair with a streak of white (and what looked like red roots? The kid clearly dyed his hair himself, and in a rush) and a face riddled with scars. He couldn’t have been older than twenty or twenty-one. He smirked at her, giving a mock bow. “Red Hood, at your service. Or, you know, Jason Todd, Robin numero dos—the “failure” Robin, if you ask good ol’ Bats and the rest of his brood.”

Laurel sighed, something in her resonating with the pain clearly underlying his anger. “Black Canary. I know a little something about being considered the subpar replacement. Should you be giving out your real name like that, though?" 

Jason let out a loud, bitter laugh. “No point in keepin’ it a secret. S’not like I’ve got a “normal” identity to protect, and the rest of the bats all know who I am anyway—and they wouldn’t’a thought twice about telling you _all_ about me. Might as well be the one doing the telling first.”

Laurel bit her lip. Something about this kid just set off all of her protective instincts—he kind of reminded her of Roy and Sin, but he was all alone; the rest of the bats seemed to have abandoned him.

No matter how much she felt for him, though, she _was_ here on a job; she didn't exactly have time to pick up strays. That was more of Ollie’s thing, anyway.

“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know the Bat well enough to say. Anyway, I have to get back to work; my partner’s not really the patient type. Look me up if you’re ever in Star City.”

He swallowed, his smirk faltering for a moment before it stretched into an obviously fake grin. She didn’t comment on it. “Sure thing, miss Canary. I’m guessing your partner’s Oracle, like you mentioned to Bats earlier. They can tell ya how to get in contact with me if you need ta. Not that they’d ever approve of you seekin’ out _my_ help—they don't exactly like my methods.” He gestured at his guns.

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I know a lot of cops—I can’t afford to be squeamish about guns.”

Oracle grumbled in her ear, displeased, and Laurel suppressed a flinch. Oops. Apparently Oracle wasn’t a fan of guns; that was good to know.

She grinned at him. “It was nice to meet you, Jason Todd. I’ll se you around.”

She walked past him and climbed onto her motorcycle, where it’d been parked in front of the alley. She turned to look at him, and saw him staring at her, something that looked like confusion in his eyes. She flashed him one last grin and winked at him, and drove off into the night.

She did have more bad guy butt to kick, after all.


	2. July 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie Brown meets the Black Canary, and comes out of it with a mentor-teacher-person. She's still pretty sure she's dreaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot of the dialogue between Steph and Tim, and the whole action-y part of this fic, is pretty much straight out of the robin 80-page giant, where Steph and Dinah canonically met for the first time.
> 
> This chapter was again beta-ed by the fantastic youngjustus and secretlystephaniebrown!

Stephanie Brown _loved_ being the Spoiler. The freedom, the feeling of power, of making a difference—it was the greatest decision she’d ever made.

Her only problem was that she lacked a decent mentor. Sure, she’d been training on her own for a while now, scraping together her spare change to pay for a gym membership so she could get in fighting shape and take some of the mixed martial arts classes they offered, and she’d even sewn her own outfit (which she thought she did a particularly good job with, thank you very much). But she didn’t have a Batman, or anyone else, to train her, to watch over her.

It took a lot not to feel jealous of Robin for that, but he was a good guy. Robin deserved to be Batman’s sidekick. So, she sucked it up, and trained all the harder for it.

Of course, on nights like tonight, when she was kicking bad guy butt with Robin and everything seemed to be going right for a change, she barely felt resentful at all. Especially when he let her use his super-cool night-vision goggles.

The house they were in was completely dark, but the goggles allowed her to see several armed baddies, waiting for a beat-down. She obliged them.

“How many’d you get, Robin?” She asked, removing the night vision goggles as they tied up the burglars they’d beaten.

He sighed, ever the killjoy, but played along for once. “Two, you?”

She pumped her fist into the air. “Three! Ha! I love winning.”

He sighed again. She was sure he was probably rolling his eyes, not that she could tell, thanks to the darkness and also his creepy white-out lenses.

“Oh come on, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He frowned, motioning towards the kitchen, where the light was clearly on. Bad sign. “If we’re going to keep partnering up, we have to coordinate. Luck only lasts so long, and we still have a sixth burglar—“

Her pride at her rare victory vanished as they entered the kitchen and found the sixth burglar, masked and holding a gun to a gorgeous blonde woman’s head.

“I will blow her brains out, and I can cap at least one of you before the other gets to me. So, do we all know who’s in charge here?”

Steph felt anger boiling in her gut, but Robin put out his arm to hold her back. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but he looked as calm and collected as usual—he probably had a plan. Robin was good with plans.

“Good. First, you’re gonna untie my pals, and then—“

He was cut off by the blonde woman, who had disarmed him and had him helpless on the floor before Steph could even move to help. Robin tossed the blonde woman a pair of handcuffs, and she shot him a dazzling grin as she cuffed the thug.

Robin finally turned to look at her. “She’s one of us, Spoiler. That’s Laurel Lance, the Black Canary.”

Steph was frozen, still staring at the woman. She might have been just a bit starry-eyed. “You’re _the_ Black Canary? Oh my god, I’ve been through all the reddit threads—um, I mean I’ve read all the news articles about you. Not the other thing I said. You’re so cool!”

Laurel laughed, rising to her feet gracefully and heading over to shake Steph’s hand. Luckily she’d regained enough control over her motor skills to do that much, at least.

“I’m glad you think so. You two should work on your tactics, though. Not every damsel in distress is going to be a martial artist trained by Nyssa al Ghul and Lady Shiva. Also, Boy Wonder, I think you and Oracle need to have another chat about not sharing other people’s secret identities?”

Tim had the grace to look sheepish at that, which sent a vindictive thrill through Steph that she _almost_ felt bad about. It was really nice not to be the one being lectured at for once, though.

Laurel looked at Steph. “I don’t see a bat on your costume. Are you officially sanctioned by Batman?”

Steph bit her lip. “Well, _sort of_ \--”

“No,” Tim responded at the same time. She gave him a glare that he probably couldn’t see through her cowl, but she was sure the force of her anger meant that he could _feel_ it.

Laurel gave them an amused smile. “I think I get it.” She schooled her face into a more serious expression, and Stephanie felt her back straighten instinctively. “You two should be more careful next time, though. If I’d been a civilian, this would’ve been _ugly_.”

Steph nodded, still mostly awestruck. Robin, on the other hand, looked indignant. “But—“

Steph cut him off. “Do you, uh, ever need a partner?”

Laurel laughed. “Already have one, Spoiler.”

“What about an apprentice?”

“Hey!” Robin butted into the conversation again. Did he not see she was making some progress here? He had his own mentor—Steph had no one. And who better than the _Black Canary_?

Laurel shot Steph another indulgent smile, and nodded at them to go. “I’ve got this, you two go back to your patrol. I’ll call 911 on these guys.”

“But. I didn’t…” Robin stuttered. Steph rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the house.

“Come on, Boy Wonder, the Canary can handle it from here.”

They swung onto a nearby rooftop, and Steph felt full to bursting, like there was too much energy to be contained in her body. “That _rocked!_ ” She said, fist pumping again and resisting the urge to jump around like a little kid.

“No, it didn't.” Robin said, bringing her crashing back down, as per usual.

“Seriously? Were we in the same room? We kicked ass! Black Canary kicked ass! And she definitely liked me, which is kind of new for me.”

“What I saw was you _jumping the gun_. And you embarrassed me in front of Black Canary.”

Steph snorted. “Um, no. You embarrassed _yourself_ in front of Black Canary. For someone so obsessed with keeping his own identity a secret, you’re sure quick to spill other people’s.”

Robin flushed bright red, and she realized she had hit a hot button. “This isn’t a _game_ , Steph! I may not know everything, or even half of what Batman knows, but I know more than _you_ do.”

The hot flush of anger was back, and stronger this time. What right did he have to talk to her like that, just because he was the lucky guy chosen to be trained by Batman? That didn’t make him any better than she was.

“Well, if you’re gonna be like that, maybe we shouldn’t partner up anymore.”

He looked like she’d just smashed a bat over his head. “Wait, what?”

“Maybe I need a mentor. Someone older, whose criticisms I actually have any reason to listen to, instead of being yelled at for no reason by someone I _thought_ was my friend.” With that, she swung off the roof and made her way back to the house. Hopefully Laurel was still there.

When she got back to the house, the police were just leaving. Laurel was in silky pajamas—not quite superhero attire, but she still gave off a vaguely terrifying aura. Steph was like 99% sure she wanted to be Laurel Lance when she grew up.

Steph slipped in through the window, waiting out of sight until the last cops left.

“You can come out now; they’re gone.” Laurel’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

Steph slunk into the kitchen and took a seat at the table, pouting at having been caught. “How did you know I was there?”

Laurel turned from the stove, where she was heating up a kettle, and smirked at Steph. “Practice.”

Steph considered that for a second. “Okay, fair.”

“So what brings you back? I thought you were going to go finish your adventure-date with the Boy Wonder?”

“Oh, he and I—we’re not. That is. Um. We’ve kissed a couple of times, but it’s hard to date when he knows my real identity but I’m not allowed to know his. Plus, you know, he’s a giant jerk, so there’s that.”

Laurel nodded, face awash with understanding. “I’ve been there. Robin seems like a good kid, but being a good person doesn’t always translate to being a good boyfriend.”

The kettle whistled, and she turned off the stove, pulling two mugs down from the cabinet. “You want some tea?”

Steph nodded and pushed back her hood, then removed her cowl. “Thanks,” she said, accepting the mug Laurel handed her as Laurel took a seat across from her.

“So. You’re looking for a teacher?"

Steph nodded so hard she felt like a bobble-head.

“You know I’m not really based in Gotham, right? I pretty much split my time between here and Star City, and anywhere else Oracle sends me.”

“That’s totally fine! Seriously! Anything you could possibly teach me would be fantastic. I mean, really, anything’s an improvement over beginner-level GothamFitness MMA lessons.”

Laurel choked on her tea. “Wait, is that…is that the full extent of your training?”

Steph nodded warily.

“That’s really impressive, that you’re able to do as well as you are in fight with such limited training.”

Steph beamed proudly. She was so bursting with joy over actually being validated by a legit adult superhero for once, that she almost didn’t catch the indecision on Laurel’s face.

Finally, after some deliberation, Laurel sighed and bit the corner of her lip. “I guess…it’s important for any girl to know self-defense, especially if you’re going to keep being Spoiler regardless of whether or not I train you.”

“Oh yeah, if Batman’s growly disapproval face couldn’t get me to stop, nothing will.”

Laurel huffed out a laugh. “I figured. And it’s not like I had much more training than you do when I first started. Okay, here’s the deal. I might not be able to train you _regularly_ , but when I’m in Gotham I’ll reach out to you, teach you some things that you can build off of on your own when I’m not here. Sound good?”

Steph was pretty positive that she was dreaming. “Are you kidding? That sounds _amazing_. When can we start?”

Laurel laughed again. “Well, I’m in Gotham for another week. Why don’t you head home and rest up for the night, and meet me tomorrow morning at the brownstone at the corner of 17th and 3rd. I’ve got some equipment set up there. Sound good?”

Steph felt like she was going to vibrate out of her body, but did her very best to seem calm, cool, and collected. “Gotcha. 17th and 3rd. I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

She chugged the rest of her tea (maybe burning her mouth a little in the process—damn her Brown luck—but she refused to react) and pushed the empty mug toward Laurel. She wanted to get out of there _fast_ , before Laurel decided to become like every other adult in Steph’s life and abandon her. “Thanks for the tea, and for not just laughing me off. See ya tomorrow!” 

She was out of her chair and gone out the window before she had the chance to wonder about the fondness in Laurel’s eyes.


	3. September 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurel helps Steph put her dad back in prison, and winds up acquiring a teenage vigilante foster daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter took _forever_. I'm glad I finally finished it, though--it's been floating in my head since almost as soon as I came up with this AU.
> 
> Thank frea_o for me finally finishing this; she finally published her fic [Present Tense](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6154360) (which you should all go read, like, immediately, bc it's Phenomenal), which was inspired by this universe, and then I read it and had Feelings and was inspired to finish this.
> 
> Also thanks, as always, to secretlystephaniebrown for beta-ing.

It was just one of those weeks where nothing seemed to go right. She’d lost a major case back in Star City, and had given in to a minor fit of rage, which she had unthinkingly aimed at Joanna, who was still giving her the cold shoulder. Then, she’d gotten distracted during a mission with Oliver, Thea, and Diggle, and would have gotten injured had it not been for Thea’s timely intervention. But that, of course, had led to her being lectured by Oliver for “putting Thea in danger.”

All in all, it was the kind of week that really made her want a drink. She called Babs, instead.

“It sounds like you need a break,” Babs said, her sympathy ringing through loud and clear without the vocoder. She’d gotten so used to analyzing Oracle’s robotic voice for inflection, it was kind of refreshing to just talk to Babs on the phone like a normal person, even though they’d just seen each other in person the week before. It was maybe possible they were starting to get a little codependent, but Laurel reasoned that that was just something that happened when you worked with someone as closely as she worked with Babs.

“God, I really do, but who has the time?”

Babs hummed. “Why don’t you leave that to me? Come to Gotham for the weekend. There aren’t any major cases right now that Batman can’t handle, so we can just order in some Thai and watch bad movies.”

Laurel let out a little moan before she could stop herself. “That sounds amazing, but I really don’t know if I can…”

Babs paused for a second, then played her trump card. “I know Stephanie would really love to see you.”

Laurel groaned. “You don’t play fair, using my own protégé against me. Fine. You win.”

Babs chuckled. “I always do.”

 

 

 

 

 

“This is the third time you’ve made me watch this movie, and I still don’t see the appeal,” Laurel muttered.

Babs elbowed her. “Jupiter Ascending is the greatest film ever made, and frankly you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Laurel snorted. “The main character is a reincarnated space queen, there are pseudo-incestuous implications _everywhere_ , and she literally just flirted with Channing Tatum by saying ‘I love dogs.’”

Babs nodded. “I know, and it’s _great_. I love this movie.”

Laurel sighed, but didn’t push it. Banter was fun, but she didn’t want to turn it into an argument—not over something this trivial. Plus, the movie was entertaining, even if she didn’t quite see what Babs saw in it. Then again, Laurel had never been all that into science fiction—she was much more into murder mystery, and also sappy romances—so she was probably missing a lot of context.

Suddenly the door burst open. Laurel was immediately on her feet, reaching for her tonfas, when she registered who exactly was standing in the doorway. The tension left her body, and she sighed, crossing her arms. 

“Steph, I thought our plans were for tomorrow?”

Steph fidgeted for a moment, and Laurel took the opportunity to study her. Usually, Stephanie was brimming with excitement and brash overconfidence when they met up for training. Laurel knew well enough that at least some of it was masking some deep insecurities, but she never brought it up—as far as coping mechanisms went, it wasn’t the worst Stephanie could have chosen. And she was far from the only teenager on the planet to utilize it.

But seeing Stephanie all fidgety and agitated with unused nervous energy set off some alarms in her head. She lowered her arms to her sides, and shared a glance with Babs.

“I’ll go make some hot cocoa,” Babs said quietly, rolling off to the kitchen to give them some privacy.

Laurel approached Steph slowly, as if approaching a skittish animal. “Steph, honey, are you alright? What’s going on?”

Steph’s suddenly couldn’t seem to meet Laurel’s eyes. “I need your help.”

Laurel put her hand on Steph’s shoulder. “I’m always here for you, Stephanie. What is it? What do you need help with?”

Steph shrugged out from under Laurel’s hand. “It’s—I overheard some planning, and my dad—I mean. Cluemaster is having a bunch of his other b-rate criminal buddies over for a planning meeting at my house tomorrow night. And my mom is going to be there, and I would usually try to handle this on my own, but I can’t take the chance that he’ll hurt her. And even if they’re not the greatest criminals on their own, with that many of them together, they could plan something that could seriously hurt you, or Babs, or maybe even Batman or Robin.”

Laurel wanted to wrap Stephanie in a calming embrace, try to soothe her, but it was obvious that Steph was feeling pretty averse to touch at the moment. Laurel frowned and bit her lip, a mixture of worry that Cluemaster might have hurt Steph, and anger at him for hurting Stephanie’s mother and for any pain he had caused them both in the past, churning in her gut. 

“Steph, you know I’ll do everything in my power to stop him. You never have to feel afraid or hesitant to come to me for help with these things, okay? I’m always here for you.”

Steph gave a jerky nod, but didn’t look at all convinced. Laurel sighed. She knew Steph was grateful for what Laurel could teach her, but Laurel still spent most of her time in Star City, and when she was in Gotham it was usually on urgent business for Babs. Not the most stellar pillar of stability for Steph, she had to admit.

“Okay, so fill me in on what you know, and we’ll figure out a plan.”

Steph nodded and sat down on the couch, just as Babs came back in with three mugs of hot chocolate. Laurel nodded at her gratefully as she reached for hers, nudging Steph’s mug (a large purple mug with “shake it off” written on it in a cute yellow font—Laurel had seen it in the window of a kitschy shop a few weeks before and it had reminded her of Steph so much that she had impulse purchased it before she knew what she was doing) towards her when Steph didn’t move to take it.

Steph took a sip from the mug, and seemed to all but melt into the couch. Laurel wondered how much sleep Steph had been getting—it couldn’t have been much, judging from the bags under her eyes. She wanted to call it a night, and tell Steph to get some rest, but she knew Steph wouldn’t be able to get any sleep until they had a solid plan. 

“Okay, let’s get down to business.”

 

 

 

 

 

Steph and Laurel crouched on the roof of Steph’s small, ramshackle old house.

“Jaybird, you in position?”

Jason snorted, but answered the affirmative. “When are you gonna stop calling me that? You never even knew me as anything other than the Hood.”

Laurel smiled cheekily. “True, but I kinda like the whole bird-names thing. Don’t you?”

Steph could almost _hear_ Jason rolling his eyes through the comms.

Babs butted in before Jason could escalate the banter. “Alright, it looks like Cluemaster, the Riddler, and the Clock King are in the kitchen, on the ground level. Crystal is…indisposed, in the second floor bedroom. She’s out of it enough that the chances of her wandering downstairs and interfering are slim to none.”

Laurel let out a thoughtful hum. “Alright. Spoiler. Normally you’d be with me on the ground floor, but we _cannot_ risk these men figuring out your identity. So you’re with Crystal, alright? You make sure she stays safe.”

Steph looked mutinous, but nodded anyway, which satisfied Laurel for the time being. “Jaybird, if I need backup, I’ll signal. Be prepared to come in at any second.”

Jason snorted. “Please, it’s like you think I’m an amateur or somethin’. I’ve got you covered.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get this done.”

Laurel glanced at Steph, and signaled for her to climb down and enter Crystal’s room from the window. Steph frowned, looking like she wanted to argue, but she followed Laurel’s orders regardless. A burst of pride sent warmth through her chest, unwarranted though it may have been, considering Laurel was hardly in Gotham often enough for Steph to _really_ be considered her protégé. 

Laurel waited until Steph had entered the room before rappelling down to the front entrance and kicking the door in. The looks on the three men’s faces were totally worth giving up the element of surprise.

“I heard you boys were up to no good.” Her eyes flickered over the bank blueprints spread over the table. “Seems I heard right.”

Cluemaster recovered first, standing up and looking ready to fight. He shot her a nasty grin. “You’re not so tough in person—the three of us could definitely take on a broad like you.”

His words seemed to inspire Tockman and Nygma, who stood up beside him and looked suddenly much more confident.

Laurel smirked. Punching their faces in was exactly the kind of catharsis she desperately needed. “If you’re looking to beat up on a girl, at least you’ve picked one who’ll hit you back.”

It only took her a handful of minutes to have them all unconscious on the floor, without even needing Jason as backup. Babs informed her through her earpiece that the GCPD were on their way to pick them up.

Laurel left them zip-tied to various heavy kitchen appliances in separate corners of the room, then went upstairs to check on Steph.

What she found broke her heart. Crystal was clearly drugged out, a mostly-empty orange bottle of pills held loosely in her hand. She looked emaciated, and far older than Laurel knew her to be.

Steph was perched at the windowsill, watching her mom with a look Laurel knew only too well from the days when her father had still been drinking. Steph’s attention hyperfocused in on Laurel the moment she entered the room. “I’ve dealt with the group downstairs,” Laurel said, and Steph seemed to breathe for the first time since she’d told Laurel and Babs what was happening. Tension drained out of her shoulders, and she slumped forward slightly.

“Thank god,” Steph murmured. Laurel smiled at her gently, even though she knew the conversation she needed to have with Steph was going to break the both of their hearts.

“Steph, can we go into the hall for a moment? We need to talk.”

Laurel hated to see Steph stiffen up again, but it was necessary. Stephanie looked at her warily, but acquiesced and followed her into the hallway.

Laurel put her hand on Steph’s shoulder, and Stephanie didn’t pull away this time. “The police are on their way to pick up your dad, which I know you’re not exactly broken up about. But when they get here, they _will_ also find your mom. I need you to be prepared for what’s going to happen.”

Steph’s brow furrowed. “But mom had nothing to do with this!”

Laurel sighed. “I know, and the police will be able to figure that out easily enough, but she’s still in possession of drugs that she shouldn’t be. Luckily, procedure for cases like these is that she’ll be put in rehabilitation, which is probably the best thing for her in the long run. I will personally make sure your mom gets into the best facility possible—I can pay out of pocket, if I need to.”

Steph looked ready to protest, but Laurel wasn’t done yet. “But if that happens—and it _will_ —that leaves you with no one. I need to know, is there _anyone_ your parents have designated as your legal guardian, should anything happen to them?”

Steph snorted. “I _already_ basically have no parents. I’ve been raising myself since I was 13. What’s the difference?”

Laurel sighed, trying to figure out how to stress the importance of this to Stephanie. “I know that, Steph, but in the eyes of the law you’re still a minor, even if you _are_ seventeen. Which means you _need_ a legal guardian. And if it’s not your parents, and they haven’t designated anyone else—“

She was interrupted by the sound of police sirens. Steph seemed to have caught her meaning anyway, if the suddenly blank look on her face was anything to go by.

“Leave now—I’ll deal with this. Go find Jason, and tell him I said to buy you a milkshake. If I don’t catch up with you tonight, I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

Steph nodded and left, swinging out the 2nd floor window, and Laurel made it downstairs just before Commissioner Gordon and his new partner, Detective Gage, entered. Laurel let out a breath of relief—of course Babs had this covered before it had even occurred to Laurel.

Commissioner Gordon’s eyes lit with recognition when he saw her, and he walked over to shake Laurel’s hand. “Your work, I presume?”

Laurel nodded. “Yes, sir. It was just these three—Brown’s wife is upstairs, though, and in need of help. She’s a client of Lance, Lane, and De La Vega, so you should contact them as soon as she gets to the station.”

Gordon’s eyebrows shot up. “LLV? They don’t have a Gotham branch.”

Laurel cocked her hip. “Mrs. Brown’s a special case. They also represent Brown’s daughter, Stephanie, who wasn’t here tonight—probably at a friend’s house or at a party or something. You’ll have to contact them before you make any decisions about Stephanie’s guardianship.”

The commissioner gave her a knowing look, and she realized that she was using her lawyer voice. Her mouth snapped shut. He shook his head, but looked amused. “Alright, Miss Canary. If you say so. We’ve got this from here, if you want to go after the teenage cape that went swinging out of here right before we came in.”

Detective Gage looked incredibly confused, which Laurel had to admit was kind of hilarious. Mostly she was mortified at how easily Gordon had seen through her, though. She gave him a sharp nod and made a swift exit.

 

 

 

 

 

Late the next morning, an exhausted Laurel dragged herself through the entrance to Watchtower. She’d had to rush out to change into a suit and get to the police station almost as soon as she’d left, and then she’d spent nearly the entire night negotiating for Crystal to be admitted to a top-notch private rehabilitation center in Metropolis instead of one of the city-funded clinics in crime alley that would have let her out after a couple of weeks in a state no better than the one she’d been admitted in. And _then_ she’d spent hours negotiating to gain custody of Steph, so that her protégé wouldn’t end up thrown into foster care.

Finally they’d come to an agreement, likely because the Gotham City foster system was so overcrowded already that it was clearly in Steph’s better interests for Laurel to take her in. Steph just needed to sign a bunch of documents that Laurel had in her briefcase, and Laurel needed to actually find a permanent residence in Gotham that could be vetted. Luckily, Babs could take care of that easily enough. 

Laurel finally made it to the sofa, which was about as far as her legs were willing to go. She collapsed on the comfortable leather, not caring that her suit was probably getting incredibly wrinkled.

She heard the distinctive sound of Barbara’s chair, and then a soft fleece blanked was draped over her. Laurel smiled into the leather, which her face was currently smushed against, but didn’t have enough energy to actually move her head and thank Babs audibly. She felt a hand stroke her hair, and figured Babs probably knew, anyway.

She woke up a few hours later, feeling surprisingly well-rested considering the awful position she’d slept in and the fact that she’d only grabbed about 3 hours of sleep, if the clock on the wall was correct.

The first thing she noticed was that Stephanie had come in at some point, and was passed out on the recliner next to the couch. She’d folded her legs into a position that Laurel honestly hadn’t thought was possible, and her arms were spread akimbo. A thin line of drool made its way down her cheek. Frankly, it was adorable, and Laurel kind of wanted to take a picture. Unfortunately, Steph picked that moment to wake up with a jolt, disturbing her precarious position and sending the teenager tumbling to the floor.

“Oww,” Steph groaned, bringing her hand to her face. “You win this round, Gravity.”

Laurel couldn’t contain a snort of laughter. Steph bounced up like a shot. 

“Laurel! You’re awake!”

A grin spread across Laurel’s face at the sight of Steph being as energetic as she usually was. Seeing Steph all sullen and tense had just felt _wrong_. Seeing the teenager more at ease made something inside of her settle, which just reaffirmed that she was making the right decision.

“Yeah, I’m awake kiddo. Come talk for a sec.”

Steph bounded over to the couch and flopped down next to her. “What’s up, bosslady?”

“I smoothed everything over with the GCPD. Your mom’s going to one of the best rehab facilities in Metropolis, and your dad’s going to Blackgate for a long time.”

She was about to continue to the other news, when suddenly she had an armful of teenager. Steph squeezed her tightly, and Laurel recovered from her surprise enough to hug Steph back before Steph sat back down. “Thank you so much, Laurel. Seriously.”

Laurel shook her head and smiled. “It was the least I could do, Steph. Which brings me to the other news.”

Steph’s grin faded, and apprehension colored her features. “So am I going to foster care? Couldn’t I, like, apply for emancipation? You could be my lawyer for that, right?”

Laurel bit her lip. “That _is_ an option, yes. But you’re not going to foster care—that is. I requested legal guardianship, if that’s something you’d want.”

Steph cocked her head, looking like she absolutely hadn’t registered what Laurel had said. “Legal guardianship? Of what?”

Laurel sighed and ruffled Steph’s hair. “Legal guardianship of _you_ , kid.”

It took a minute for that to sink in, but Laurel could see the minute it did: Steph’s eyes went wide as saucers, and she fell back against the couch cushions a little, like she’d suddenly lost control of her ability to stay upright.

“You want to, what…adopt me?”

“Well, I would technically be fostering you, since your mother would regain custody when she gets out of rehab, if she passes her evaluations and is deemed fit for guardianship. But, yeah. Pretty much. If you want—this really does come down to your decision, honestly.”

Steph nodded her head so hard Laurel was almost worried. “Ohmygodyes, are you kidding? That’s absolutely something I’d want. But…how would that work. Would I move to Star City?”

Laurel shook her head. “No. I would move here. Joanna can handle the Star City branch of LLV, and this actually gives us the opportunity to start the Gotham branch I’ve been pushing for.”

“But what about Team Arrow?”

Laurel smiled. “Team Arrow can handle themselves pretty well, I think. And besides, I think we have the makings of a pretty good team here, don’t you?”

This time, when Steph tackle-hugged her, Laurel was a little more prepared.

(From the doorway, unseen by either of them, Babs took a photo. For posterity. It definitely had nothing to do with the way Laurel’s face was absolutely lit up in that moment. Definitely not.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite having several lawyers in my family, all of my knowledge of the criminal justice system comes from television, so the lawyer/police stuff is probably all inaccurate. But considering this takes place in _Gotham_ , normal laws probably don't apply, anyway.


	4. January 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurel and Babs break Helena out of prison, terrify Gotham's mob scene into behaving, and finally form the Birds of Prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Another update, it's a miracle!
> 
> For those curious, yes, this chapter contains the events Babs references to Helena in [i wanna ruin our friendship (we should be lovers instead)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6526144).
> 
> this chapter is unbeta'd because I am impatient

“Absolutely not. No, Laurel. She’s a killer.”

Laurel ran a hand through her hair agitatedly. “She _was_ a killer, Babs. So were Ollie, and Jason, and _my sister_. Hell, even Bruce was a member of the league of assassins for a misguided few years. People can change.” 

“People only change if they want to change. We don’t know if she does, and it’s too risky to get her out for something this delicate.”

“You don’t know Helena like I do, Babs. She didn’t—she doesn’t take any pleasure in killing. Getting that revenge felt like something she _had_ to do. And once it was over, god, she looked so empty and lost. She’s not going to kill again, not if we ask her not to.”

Barbara sighed. “Even so, it’s too big of a risk. I’ve seen footage of her, read all her psych evals and incident reports. She doesn’t listen to instructions, and doesn’t play well with a team. We can’t _trust_ her.”

“Then trust _me_. I’ve been visiting her for years, and I really think she can help us with this. She’s the _only_ person who can help us stop this before there’s any more bloodshed.”

Babs took off her glasses and shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You really think this is the best solution?”

Laurel placed a reassuring hand on Barbara’s shoulder, and smiled at her confidently. “I really do.”

Babs sighed. “Fine. But if this bites us in the ass, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”

Laurel laughed. “Deal.”

Her hand moved to stroke Barbara’s hair as if on its own, then came to rest on her cheek. Babs leaned into her hand, just the tiniest bit, but enough to send a pulse of warmth through Laurel’s body.

Laurel pulled her hand back after a moment, and Babs put her glasses back on. Babs looked up at her, her face already shifting into a very familiar devious expression—one that usually preceded her doing something extremely brilliant and very illegal.

“Well, if we’re doing this, we might as well do it in style.”

Laurel beamed down at her. “There’s the Babs I know and love.”

Babs cracked her knuckles and wheeled herself to her computer terminal. “Time to get to work.”

 

 

 

 

 

Laurel never enjoyed going to Iron Heights. That hadn’t stopped her from visiting Helena about once a month since shortly after Sara had "died," but the fact remained that it was one of the most unpleasant places she’d ever been. 

Regardless, she had been the one to decide on this course of action, and that meant seeing it through to the fullest. And Helena was being released into Laurel’s custody, technically, so it was Laurel’s responsibility to be here.

Besides, it wasn’t like anyone else was going to be there for Helena, and the thought of the other woman being alone immediately after being released was too painful. So here she was, waiting patiently in the entrance of the prison for Helena to finish going through the release procedures.

When Helena entered her line of sight, no longer in the jumpsuit Laurel had gotten so used to seeing her in, but in the old Huntress costume she’d been wearing when she’d been brought in, Laurel almost didn’t recognize her. Helena hadn’t spotted her yet, and seeing her in her old costume while exuding the sort of calm resignation Helena had developed in prison, rather than the manic, unpredictable energy Laurel had come to associate with Helena’s Huntress persona, gave Laurel a strange sort of cognitive dissonance.

And then Helena spotted her. She smirked at Laurel flirtatiously. “Well, if it isn’t the pretty bird, come to set me free.” The strange feeling disappeared.

“Helena.” Laurel gestured to the small gym back slung over her shoulder. “I brought some clothes for you, in case you wanted to change.”

Helena’s smirk flickered into something that might’ve been genuine, but it happened so fast it was impossible to tell. “Aww, that’s sweet. But I’m good in this, thanks.” Her voice held all the usual sarcasm, but it wasn’t as cutting as it might’ve been even just a year before.

Laurel merely smiled at her. If Helena was hoping to get under Laurel’s skin with sarcasm that weak, she obviously underestimated the effects of adopting a 17-year-old vigilante. “Well, if you don’t want these, we have a few hours before we catch the plane to Gotham. We can stop by your apartment and pack some things if you want." 

Helena cocked an eyebrow. “Gotham? I know you live there, but I’m fine in Star City. Unless there’s something in Gotham that needs my attention?” She asked knowingly. Ah, so she’d figured out they needed her for something. Well, no one had ever accused Helena of being oblivious.

“You could say that. All the major crime bosses in Gotham are on the verge of war, and you’re probably the only one who can get them in line without causing large amounts of bloodshed.”

A smirk spread across Helena’s face, and she put her hand on her hip. “Interesting. And your partner approves?”

Laurel heaved a sigh. “Grudgingly, but yes. You actually have her to thank, mostly, for getting out of this place.”

Helena’s smirk deepened, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. She shrugged with fake nonchalance. “Well, that was nice of her. I suppose I don’t have anything _else_ planned. And this sounds like fun.”

Laurel grinned at Helena. “I’d hoped you might say that. So, to your apartment for clothes?”

Helena nodded decisively. “Oh, absolutely. I need my tiny dresses if I’m going to be negotiating with the mob.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I still don’t like this,” Oracle’s voice came through their comms. As if she hadn’t spent the entirety of their mission prep worrying and talking about all of the things that could go wrong. Laurel was positive that Babs had contingencies for their contingencies at this point.

“Good thing you don’t have to, then, huh?” Helena snarked. Laurel rolled her eyes.

Babs muttered something under her breath, but let it drop.

Laurel locked eyes with Helena, raising a questioning eyebrow. Helena smirked at her and winked, trying to lighten the mood. “Come on, Pretty Bird. You know me. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s drawing attention.”

Laurel didn’t take the bait. “I’ll be shadowing you from a distance, and Jason will be patrolling in the area, if you need backup. Remember, the goal is to send a message, spread rumors of your return as quickly as possible. We just want them to fear you, so you can negotiate with them and broker a peace. And—“

“No killing. I know.” Helena rolled her eyes.

Laurel’s eyebrows jumped. “Actually, I was going to say take care of yourself, since it’s your first time back in the field in years. I have faith in you.” She shot Helena a small, genuine smile.

Helena shrugged, visibly uncomfortable. She looked like she didn’t quite know what to do with her face. “Yeah, well. Whatever. Are we gonna do this, or are we going to stand around all night talking about our _feelings_?”

Laurel shook her head, well used to Helena’s aversion to displays of genuine emotion at this point. When they were alone, she was usually able to get through to Helena, but with Babs listening in, there was no way Helena would be comfortable returning any sort of sentiment.

“Alright, just be careful, and don’t hesitate to signal for backup if you need it.”

“Blah blah blah, yes, okay, I got it the _first_ time you said it, Canary.”

“Good luck.”

That night passed relatively uneventfully. A few underlings tried to cause trouble, and there was the usual gang violence and petty crime. Laurel wanted to step in, but that would’ve defeated the point, so instead she waited anxiously in the shadows as Helena handled each encounter effortlessly, as if she hadn’t just been released from almost four years in prison.

It was nearly five in the morning by the time they returned to Watchtower and collapsed onto Laurel’s favorite couch.

Babs rolled in front of them, and handed them each a mug of coffee. Laurel looked at her as if she’d just personally hung the moon. “Have I ever told you you’re my heeeeeero?” She sung comically off-key.

Babs rolled her eyes. “You’ve been spending too much time hanging out with Steph.”

“You are the wiiiiiiiind beneath my wings.”

Helena downed half of the scalding coffee in one gulp. “Ugh. You guys are gross. Please restrain yourselves until I’m at least out of earshot.”

Laurel glared at Helena weakly, to little effect.

“I should head home, anyway. I have a deposition in like 2 hours, and I need to shower and change and make sure Steph actually goes to school today.”

Babs snorted. “Good luck with _that_.”

“I take back what I said. You’re the Worst.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next several weeks passed in much the same way, with the occasional fancy dinner where Laurel was forced to play Helena’s vapid girlfriend/piece of arm candy, who was just so _incredibly_ lovesick that she was willing to abuse her position to get Helena out of prison early.

The story gave Laurel a bad taste in her mouth every time she had to sell it, but Helena seemed to be having fun.

Tonight, though, was a different story. Tonight was the final gala that they would be attending. The plan was for Helena to discreetly pull aside each of the mob bosses involved and… _persuade_ them to join her for negotiations the following night. Having spent the past month proving she was no less dangerous now than she was when she’d been sent to prison, convincing them to come would be a piece of cake. Or at least, that’s what they were hoping.

Laurel just had to keep reminding herself how important tonight was, crossing her arms and clenching her fists to prevent her from breaking the hand of the next creep who pinched her ass in a misguided attempt at flirtation.

Another middle-aged man approached her, his eyes locked firmly on her cleavage (which, she had to admit, was looking pretty outstanding in her tight black dress). She cocked a hip and glared at him hard enough to send him scurrying in the other direction.

An arm wrapped around her waist. She was about to break said arm, and possibly its owner’s face, when a familiar voice whispered in her ear. “If you keep glaring at them like that, they’re going to stop buying the whole Dumb Blonde schtick,” Helena whispered, her lips brushing against Laurel’s ear. It was _almost_ enough to distract Laurel from the amusement in Helena’s voice, but not quite.

She elbowed Helena lightly in the stomach. Helena snickered and moved to face Laurel, and she finally noticed the drink Helena held in the hand that hadn’t been placed low on her waist. “Is that any way to treat the girl who brought you a sweet tea?”

Laurel grabbed the drink from her and took a long gulp, relishing the sweetness.

“Hey, I can’t blame you—I’d like to put the hurt on most of these guys too. In fact, if you don’t _mind_ ruining all the work we’ve put in for the last month, I’m _more_ than willing to go with plan B and put them all in the ground.”

Laurel choked on her tea. “Wha—Helena, no. Killing them is not plan B. It has never been plan B.”

Helena snickered. “I know, I know, but your face when I said that was too great to resist.”

Laurel let out a disgusted sigh. “You and Jason are terrible influences on each other. And no matter how annoying these vultures are, we’re not killing them. Just…save that anger for the negotiations tomorrow night.”

Helena gave a sarcastic salute. “Sure thing, O’ Canary my Canary.”

Laurel’s eyes bugged out, and she glanced around to make sure no one had overheard. “Helena, _please_.”

Helena just laughed in response.

 

 

 

 

 

  

“I. Don’t. Care.” Helena said through clenched teeth. She’d been slowly losing her temper throughout the night’s negotiations—frankly, Laurel was impressed she’d made it this long without actually shooting someone with her crossbow. Oh, sure, she’d _threatened_ to, but the fact that it remained firmly strapped to Helena’s thigh was a real sign of progress.

The head of Gotham’s Italian mob collapsed back into his seat fearfully. Laurel did her best not to smirk. 

“I get it. You all have your petty squabbles. But guess what? You _all_ have to deal with me now. So you’re going to handle your territory disputes like _civilized people_ and have _conversations_ with each other—regularly, if I have anything to say about it, which I _do_. And the next time an innocent bystander gets so much as a papercut, whichever of you is responsible will get a bolt in the head. Capisce?” She stroked her crossbow lovingly, and the men and women at the table gave a collective shudder. Laurel was duly impressed

“Now get out of my sight.”

They scrambled to leave, practically shoving past each other to get to the door. Neither Helena nor Laurel relaxed until the last of them had slunk out and the door had swung shut.

Finally, Laurel let out a long breath and sank into a chair. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“That remains to be seen,” Oracle’s voice finally came through the comms. She’d been silent throughout the meeting so as not to distract them, but the lack of the sarcastic commentary she’d grown so accustomed to had been even more distracting. 

Helena snorted. “Please, you just don’t want to admit that I did a kickass job.”

“…You performed adequately,” Babs said after a moment, the strain in her voice obvious to Laurel even through the vocoder. Laurel felt a surge of pride—she knew how hard it was for Babs to admit when she was wrong, and this was as close as Babs was going to come to saying that Laurel had been right in bringing Helena in on this mission.

Helena, of course, ignored this entirely. “Adequately? Come on, I was amazing. I sent all those godfather wannabes home with their tails between their legs. Admit it: Laurel and I make a great team.”

Babs was conspicuously silent at that proclamation, but Laurel grinned at Helena and clasped her shoulder. “Glad to hear you say that. I was hoping you might want to maybe stick around? It’d be nice to have a partner in the field who’s _not_ a teenager.”

Helena smirked back at her. “Well, you _did_ get me out of prison. And this was actually kind of fun. Besides, it’s not like there’s anything keeping me tied to Star City anymore.”

Laurel beamed hopefully. “So that’s a yes?”

Helena shrugged with faux nonchalance. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stick around for a bit.”

“Are you sure about this, Canary?” Oracle’s voice came through Laurel’s comm, a disapproving edge to her tone. Laurel ignored her.

“Then welcome to the team, Huntress.”

Babs let out a longsuffering sigh, then switched back to the group comms instead of Laurel’s individual frequency. “If you _must_ , I suppose it’s better for you to work with us than go off on your own.”

Helena shot a cheeky smile at Laurel. “You know, I really think she’s warming up to me.”

Laurel didn’t stop laughing all the way back to Watchtower.


End file.
